


For Us

by onlyhereforellick



Series: Fictober ‘19 [29]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst Y’All, F/M, fictober 19, it speaks to me I can’t help it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-12 22:49:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21233855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlyhereforellick/pseuds/onlyhereforellick
Summary: This was not how this was supposed to go.





	For Us

**Author's Note:**

> Fictober 19; prompt 29: “I’m doing this for you.”
> 
> Don’t hate me, hate Selena & her new song that is 🔥

Pausing just steps into the foyer of her quaint new place in the French Quarter, Ellie closed her eyes and inhaled deeply through her nostrils—letting the smell of antique wood, original flooring, fresh beignets from down the street wash over her. She decided to take an old, dear friend’s advice,  _“close your eyes and remember the good.”_

_The love notes he’d leave around the house. _

_The tender touches in bed as they drifted off to sleep. _

_The smell of his rich cooking after a hard case. _

_The way her whispered name fell from his lips. _

It only ever worked for a brief moment before the bad memories came rushing in to overcrowd the good.  _Damn you, Clay._ His advice helped but it was never enough. It’d never replace the real thing...Nick. 

When they’d finally given into temptation and gotten together it had been hot, passionate, wild. The pent up tension threatened to explode, but they had managed to hang on. They became engrossed in each other, never truly labeled what they had, but almost never without the other person. Ellie depended on him like it was the air she breathed. In her eyes, he was nothing if not the most caring, loving, thoughtful partner. Only now did she realize she had been wearing distorted rose-colored glasses. Not that he’d ever been abusive in any way, it was more psychological than that. And honestly, she didn’t think either of them noticed. They were both so wrapped up in each other, they went into it blindly, so to speak. 

It wasn’t until one particular case that she grasped just how unhealthy their relationship had become. Instead of true independent partners complimenting each other, they had become co-dependent, symbiotic even. Needing the other for life to a detrimental point. 

Ellie had a crystal clear recollection of the case. A petty officer had been attacked, and while investigating potential suspects they came across an ex-husband. Immediately she negated that possibility. She described their ten year marriage as the happiest and unhealthiest time of her life. Ellie had stated her confusion at the time. The woman explained they had loved each other, but they had loved each other wrong. Stubborn they had tried to deny it, and then they had tried to make it work. Finally one day he came to her having met another woman, one he wanted to try to love. So he divorced the petty officer and afterwards she had realized just how freeing letting go could be. 

Ellie almost immediately had made excuses to go, the parallels between her and Nick’s relationship were uncanny. She had been blind to it before, but the red flags were there. She had to get out, and get out fast. 

The next morning she met with Vance in private and requested a transfer to the New Orleans team. She knew they were always short people, and the South called to her. Vance had a speculative look to his eye but with a silent nod, complied easily. Three days later, Pride had gotten back to Vance—her transfer would be effective immediately. 

She wouldn’t tell the team. No, she couldn’t face them. It’d be cowardly, but it was best. Besides, it’s always better to seek forgiveness than ask permission. Nick though...Nick she had to tell. She lived with him for Christ’s sake, she couldn’t just pack her stuff and leave without saying  _something_.

She gave Gibbs a lame excuse about not feeling well and brushed off Nick’s offer to take her home early. Ellie wanted to be packed and ready to drive to the airport the moment she dropped the bomb on Nick. In truth, it wasn’t a complete lie. Her stomach was doing twists and turns all day, to the point of nausea. 

She packed her essentials in less than an hour and perched herself on the edge of the couch until Nick made his way home. The second the lock clicked behind him, the air shifted. Ellie wasn’t sure he’d felt it yet, but it threatened to suffocate her. Just like this relationship. 

Nick hadn’t noticed her suitcase by the door yet, or he wouldn’t have come bounding in with a smile on his face.  _This was going to kill her, wasn’t it?_ “Hey babe! You feeling any better? I can make you some of my ma’s chicken noodle soup. Give me a sec—“

“Nick, stop.” Ellie’s tone halted him mid-step. “We need to talk.” He just balked at her silently, so she continued. The faster she said the words, the faster she could be gone.  _Rip it off like a bandaid__._ “I’m leaving for New Orleans tonight.”

Nick found his voice, “Ohhh-kay. They need help down there for a case? So I’ll see you in a few days, no big deal. Come on, let’s—“

“It’s a one way ticket, Nick.”

“Well, yeah because who knows when the case will end. Ellie, really, we’ll be okay for a week.” Nick gave her a look like she was talking crazy and held out a hand for her to take. 

“Nick, I’m not coming back. Not in a week, not in a month, not ever.” She finally rushed the words out before he could say any more. 

Nick’s face drained of all color, as he sagged into the living room chair—one they’d picked out together because they could  _“both cuddle in it for hours.”_ His mouth opened and closed a few times before he croaked out, “What- what do you mean, El? What- are we- are you-“

He couldn’t get the question out but she knew what he meant. Standing up to go, she grabbed her coat on the arm of the couch and the handle of her go bag, tossing it onto her shoulder. “It’s over, Nick. I love you, but this- this kind of love...it isn’t healthy. I don’t- I don’t know who I am anymore, Nick. I need to find myself again, to love myself again. And honestly, you do, too. I hate myself for turning you into something you’re not.” When Nick started to scoff and protest, Ellie cut him off with a hard shake of her head and soldiered on, “You hardly work out anymore, your protein shakes are a thing of the past, you drink daily. I’ve stopped reading, painting, dreaming! We’re not healthy together, Nick.”

His eyes shone in the lamplight and she swore under her breath. The fight in him was slowly fading as he realized she was right. 

“I’m doing this for you. For me. For  _us_, Nick. I hope one day you see that. I hope one day you realize losing each other is how we’ll learn to love ourselves.” 

And with that, she left. The door clicked shut and she didn’t look back, she didn’t dare. 

———

It had been two months. The outcry from the team died down, they understood and she kept in touch with them from time to time. She never spoke to Nick though—not that he reached out either. 

Her world stopped the morning of the official two month mark—two tiny lines along a white piece of plastic declaring her future. Pregnant. There was literally only one possible father, and if she’d heard Kasie right yesterday evening, he’d moved on with someone Ellie’s exact opposite. 

Truthfully, she shouldn’t have been surprised. That didn’t make it hurt any less. Pregnant. Alone.  _Did she tell Nick?_

———

Another several months passed, she learned she was having a boy, the elation that came with the news quickly followed by sorrow, much like the rest of her pregnancy. Gregorio had gone with her to the ultrasound and when she asked Ellie if she had a name picked out, Ellie shocked herself. “Cody Nicholas” left her lips before she knew what was happening. 

Gregorio questioned the meaning behind it and Ellie brushed her off. She’d told no one down in New Orleans about Nick yet, and she didn’t intend to start now.

———

Ellie refused to tell Kasie in their weekly calls. She’d been eight months pregnant and Kasie  _almost_ noticed. Ellie had dropped the phone during their FaceTime and there was a quick shot of her round belly. Fumbling for the phone she managed to end the call and text Kasie back with a lie about spilling something and needing to talk later. 

From then on, she never FaceTimed her again. Strictly audio, no one,  _no one_, could know she was pregnant in DC. She’d sworn the New Orleans office to secrecy siting an excuse about not having told the father or her family yet, which unfortunately wasn’t a lie. She just didn’t expand on the fact that she didn’t know how or when she ever would. 

———

Her due date came and went, and still radio silence from Nick. Not that she expected a call, but he was on the forefront of her mind, constantly. The guilt of not telling him overtaking her every thought to the point she was struggling to cope much longer. 

Ellie stood in the middle of the work space facing the hanging monitor. Her eyes were glazed over as they stared unseeingly at their latest suspect. Her focus was taken elsewhere as another what she presumed to be a Braxton-Hicks contraction rippled through her. A hand to her lower abdomen, she tried to calm the pain by concentrating on her breathing. She heard a figure walk in behind her, their boots stopping soon after the threshold. A few more breaths, in and out, in and out, before she slowly turned around with her hand still cradling her belly, the other holding the case file. 

She wasn’t sure who she was expecting, but it sure as hell wasn’t Nick. The file dropped as fast as her jaw did, and another contraction ripped through her. Nick stood stunned speechless. His eyes widened and mouth hung open as he took in her large one-week-past-her-due-date belly. 

Lasalle chose that exact moment to come strolling out of the kitchen to her right and walk directly to her side. In his Southern drawl he addressed her, not seeing Nick across the room, “Hey momma, I made you some tea. A touch o- honey, just like you like it,” he said with a wink as he tossed an arm around her shoulders. The brotherly gesture was so appreciated by Ellie, they’d grown to form quite the bond when she transferred down here. Their upbringings out in the country put them on common ground, despite different difficulties since then. 

Nick, on the other hand, did not see the gesture as quite so ‘brotherly.’ His nostrils flared and fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. She hadn’t seen him in months, but Ellie remembered his fight stance as if it was yesterday. 

As Ellie was opening her mouth to say something, anything, Lasalle’s gaze had roamed from her face to finally see Nick. His manners getting the best of him before Ellie could speak, he interrupted her thought, “Oh, hey there! Didn’t see you there,” he unfurled his arm around Ellie as he made his way over to Nick, “I’m Christopher Lasalle, you must be the infamous Timothy McGee I’ve heard all about. Nice to officially meet you.” 

Lasalle held out his hand for Nick to shake, but Nick just stared at it, brow furrowing. Nick’s eyes snapped back up to Lasalle’s face and Ellie held her breath. 

“Er-, not Timothy? I’ve met Gibbs before, and you’re definitely not him. Oh! You must be the hilarious Jimmy Palmer, the  _chosen one_?” Lasalle tried again with a little chuckle at the end. Ellie had told him that story, but left one key part out...Nick. 

She hadn’t told a soul down here in the New Orleans office about Nick. And any time they inquired about the baby’s father, she eluded. At one point she hadn’t gotten so sick of it all—the constant regret, the constant sadness—that she firmly shut down Patton once when he tried to probe with a  _slightly_ raised voice. Ever since then, they all stopped asking, they’d gotten the hint—it was not something she wanted to  _ever_ talk about. 

Nick continued to stare angrily at Lasalle and made no move to shake his hand, leaving Lasalle’s arm to awkwardly fall back to his side. He took a step backwards to angle his body to Ellie with a questioning look on his face. Ellie took a long, deep breath in to steady herself after another contraction had just run it’s course. 

This was  _not_ how this was supposed to go. 

Staring down her baby’s father, her ex, her best friend, her partner, her true love that  _she_ walked out on, it was time to face the music. On shaky knees and an even shakier voice, Ellie whispered tentantively, unsure of what kind of response awaited her, “Hi, Nick.”


End file.
